Chasing the Wind
by Wesley Windam-Price
Summary: The story of the demon Boomerang after the end of Wild Arms I. Chapter two's up, but I'm not so hot about it. Thoughts?
1. Prologue: Valley of the Wind

Prologue: Valley of the Wind  
  
The wind, cold and furious, whipped through the broken archways and crumbled buildings of the city, through colonies of vagrants and homeless, weeds and trees, and through the hair of a lone figure leaning against a preserved piece of a coliseum's pillar.  
He, for indeed the figure was male, raised his hand before his face and let the wind play through his splayed fingers, staring at his hand with an almost childlike fascination. Cold. Yes, he knew all about cold.  
Cold like the place between places. Cold like the sky. Cold like the shining blue of eyes. There was a great deal to know about cold, and he had more than his fair share of experience. Cold, like back then.  
The brows of the figure furrowed under a long mane of silky brown hair, as he made an effort to bring forth what he sought from the corridors of his mind. Remembering the other place was hard.harder each time he tried. But there were a few things he could still see easily.  
A blue-haired creature with the heart of a man and the body of a demon. A killer with an innocent soul. Riding along for one, traveling with two, and under the gaze of many.  
A blue eyed girl with a fiery spirit filled with hope. Being one, but also being a legion at the same time.  
A leather-clad knight with a coy smile and a wicked unyielding blade. One who was once another, after the winter.  
Brothers and sisters, with hate and love bound.  
And most clearly of all a blue wolf with whom to chase the wind, with eyes of fire and the soul of a savior. Of life, death, rebirth, and another death. Of the cold, between place, and now here.  
A tear slowly worked its way down his cheek, and was consumed by the hungry mouth of the blowing wind. Unconcerned and uncaring, the figure took his only possession, the only thing from There that was his, or that mattered anymore, and began to work his way out of the ruins, to do what his heart asked of him. To chase the wind. With a fluid motion, he heaved himself over the edge of the opening and was gone. 


	2. The Hunt for Desire

He hit the tiled ground heavily, creating cracks in the stone under his feet that shot out in a three-foot radius around him.  
  
Dusting off his clothing, the man rose out of his crouch on the floor and checked to see if the object was damaged. He trusted it's durability far less than his own.  
  
Seeing that it was fine, he set off into the crumbled city.  
  
The streets were crowded with broken fragments of buildings, shopping carts, overturned and burned out cares, and the occasional fire of the homeless, all of which were covered in the soft gray light of the sun filtered through the heavy blanket of clouds above.  
  
"Never thought I'd see YOU here, devil." came a low voice from the darkness of a building's shadow, under a curtain of rotting vines, and was presently accompanied by a wet, heavy cough.  
  
He spun quickly on the balls of his feet and tensed his muscles as the owner of the voice slowly limped their way out into the open.  
  
"You…" he whispered.  
  
Clearing the shadows, the figure became visible at last. It was a shapely woman with thick red hair covered in torn crimson cloth, with the dull glint of tarnished armor just barely shining through in the faint light.  
  
He moved closer to her, and slowly ran his hand over her face, feeling its contours, its every crack and crevice. The woman patiently waited for him to finish with an expression of tired tolerance in her eye.  
  
"You were…are…Harken," he muttered, letting his hand drop to his side limply, "I knew you."  
  
"Yes, I suppose you did. But that was then. And look at you now, you can't even remember who you are, much less another."  
  
"I…I am…myself," he said, then added as an afterthought, "I ran with the blue wolf."  
  
"Of course…you had such little sin as compared to the rest of us, perhaps it's a blessing that you can't remember what we were. What we are," she said, a brief look of resigned sorrow flittering over her face, only to die as quick as it had appeared.  
  
A memory played through his mind unbidden. A memory of shining metal in the dying sunlight, of blazing fires at night. Of screams. Of deep, beautiful blue light.  
  
"We were…not flesh. Metal. Metal and dark." he said, and sat down on a fallen pillar, cradling the object on his lap lovingly, running his fingers over its grooves.  
  
"And I was…this." he said, and help the object out.  
  
The faint light of the sun beyond the clouds played itself over the mirror-polished surface of the long, finely crafted curved blade, gliding over the grip of black and blue steel, over the razor sharp killer's edge.  
  
"Yes…you were called Boomerang. A metal demon, just like me. Like Alhazard and the others. We were a scourge upon Filgaia, my brother. But we were driven to here, to this Valley of the Wind, where the lost gather, by the power of the Guardians."  
  
"Guardians…" he said, a faint spark of recognition in his eyes.  
  
"Yes. The native spirits of the planet Filgaia, the essences of earth, wind, fire, water, light, and many others. It seems appropriate that you should remember that…as you so eloquently put it, you 'ran with the blue wolf'. Lucid, the Guardian of Desire."  
  
"Desire….what do…what do you desire, my child?" Boomerang whispered to himself, rocking back and forth on the pillar.  
  
-A fountain of black with a core of blue in the middle rose from the earth before him, seeming to shake the foundations of the world. A deep, powerful voice, a voice that had seen the birth and death of suns and worlds sounded out all around him.  
  
"Rest your arms, demon, you have nothing to fear from me. You called to me, with your soul. With your desire. I know what it is you want, and I'll help you get it, but the real question is do YOU know, fiend, what it is you want? What you truly want."  
  
"So tell me child, what is it you desire?"-  
  
The demon rocked back to reality with such a force that he fell off his seat and rolled to a stop at the feet of Lady Harken. He was on his feet in a flash, and had grabbed her by the shoulders before she had a chance to react.  
  
"Desire. The wolf. Lucid…he'll help me find the wind. I can find it, if I just have him. Tell me where to find him, Harken, or sister or not, I'll…" he spat, but stopped as she began to laugh.  
  
"Good…you're on your way. For you, my brother, desire is life. Now that you can remember your old pet, you know more of who you are. And if your desire is strong enough, then you might just get out of here."  
  
"And what of you?" he asked, retrieving his namesake from the ground near the pillar.  
  
"Me? What do I have left? I was never real to begin with. I'm merely the dark side of a warrior, long dead. Even if she was alive, I'd still be nothing more than a ghost in the world. No, I'll stay here and pay for my sins…perhaps one day, I'll be free of this place, but not today."  
  
With a light nod, Boomerang turned to leave, and had just reached the edge of the clearing in the rubble as a hand caught the flesh of his upper arm.  
  
"A word of advice, brother. There are others here who you knew that may not wish you as much well as I have. Until they repent for their sins, they will never begin the long road to escaping the Valley of the Winds…if there even is a way out. But if there is, I know you'll find it. Sometimes, I've seen a light off to the north of here, but I never investigated…perhaps this is the way you seek."  
  
"My thanks. Be well, my sister," he said.  
  
"And you," she said with a smile, and with that said, turned her back on Boomerang and limped back to the shadowy enclave from which she had originally appeared.  
  
Boomerang strode out into the gray ruins of the city, with determination in his heart.  
  
For countless days he traveled, but then time was a meaningless thing in the Valley of the Wind. The sun never set, or moved from its position overhead in the gray sky. The only way to even measure distance through the never-ending city were the clouds overhead, which boiled as if some fire had been lit above them.  
  
On, for intensive purposes we shall call the third day, the demon made his way into an empty graveyard, in a very literal sense. None of the graves were filled, all only large open holes in the earth, with the only inhabitant a small flock of crows.  
  
The sound of thunder filled the air, and a bright flash burned Boomerang's vision into white static for a moment. In half an instant, he had thrown his weapon through the air at the source of the flash, and had fallen down on one knee.  
  
The blade whistled through the air, slicing through stone and wood as it arced through the graveyard, and would have severed the white-haired head of the man leaning against a thick oak tree on the western end of the cemetery, had he not ducked.  
  
The boomerang returned to the demon's hands, and he brought himself into a fighting stance, namesake at the ready, as the man slowly and casually sauntered from his ruined resting place towards Boomerang.  
  
"I'm sorry about that…but the crows were landing on my grave. Well, not MINE, but my favorite," the man said as he re-holstered his pistols into their straps at his waist, which were barely hidden under his long white coat, and casually started to clean his spectacles.  
  
"You're a very lucky man, gunslinger, because I seldom miss. Now…speak your name, and what can you tell me of the Guardian of Desire?"  
  
"My name is Judecca, guardian of the Iron Mother." said the man as he brushed a wisp of hair out of his sparkling eyes.  
  
The Iron Mother…Metal Mother. Metal Demons. Mother of Demons. Mother. 


End file.
